


Christmas at Rehab

by MusicLover19



Series: Klaus' Strange Life [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Knitting, Presents, Rehabilitation, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover19/pseuds/MusicLover19
Summary: Klaus’ firstrealChristmas is spent inside of a rehab facility. It is there that he gets given his first present. Klaus reflects on Christmas and what it means, Ben is just there for the ride, offering his support in the only way he knows how to like this.- Can be read as a stand-alone.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Klaus' Strange Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579927
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Christmas at Rehab

**Author's Note:**

> The main story is on a break for Christmas, things are crazy here. I got this in my head and just needed to get it out there. It isn't polished as much as I'd prefer, but I'm not upset with it either. I hope everyone has a great holiday time - or just a good mid-week!

Klaus hadn’t paid any mind to the few decorations that had been up around the facility. Sure, there was a decorated tree on the reception desk, and a few different nicknacks around, but he hadn’t questioned why. He assumed it was part of the facility. He had seen them appear around the city, but Reginald hadn’t done anything similar. He knew about Christmas - in the way that he knew about elephants. It was a thing that happened, and some people got to have it. Klaus had only seen it from afar.

Therefore, he hadn’t looked as hopeful or as depressed as the others in rehab. They had seemed even more upset than normal, even the ones that were there longer than him. Being ushered into the hall with most of the other patients hadn’t even made Klaus think anything abnormal. They were often grouped together for therapy - _group_ , where they’d talk and share their thoughts and feelings. The tables had been set up, but that could have just been for their attempt at art. They had drawn and painted before, to varying successes.

“We have been given the ok for this,” Jen began, her hands in front of her chest, almost ready to clap in excitement. She was quick to excite, always happy to share the joy with others - even for something as simple as keeping food down after a meal. “Because it’s Christmas, we have a chocolate dessert.”

The hum of appreciation had been different. They weren’t allowed chocolate or coffee. Anything that could alter moods had been forbidden, and chocolate was something the others had complained about. There were faces missing from the group, so perhaps not everyone got this _treat_ for Christmas.

“We have a smaller version of a Christmas dinner,” Jen was continuing, but Klaus tuned her out as she spoke. He was tempted to turn and leave the room, someone would follow him, but he would be away from the buzz of _happy_. It felt out of place where he was. It felt out of place around Klaus. He wanted to leave and swallow a pill or two - or five. That’d stop the churning in his stomach. He had thought his nausea had settled a few days ago, but clearly not.

The meal hadn’t been bad. It was like their typical Sunday dinner with Reginald. Meat, vegetables and gravy. Nothing special or unique. He thought Christmas was meant to be magical. The siblings had all wondered what the normal children did during holidays, if they truly thought magic brought them gifts and if they felt something different to the normalcy of life. Christmas had just been another normal day for them. They woke up early and trained until they were excused. There was no magic, no man in red to praise their behaviour. He wouldn’t admit it, but Klaus had wondered if they had been bad children when he learnt of the legend. Santa would bring gifts for the good children, and yet they never received anything. They had to have been bad. Klaus had swallowed the thought with a stolen bottle of whisky. He had been much too old to be thinking of lies told to children.

The chocolate mousse had felt heavenly on his tongue, the flavour jumping out. The texture felt wrong, but Klaus swallowed around the coldness to chase the chocolate. He didn’t eat chocolate often, his spare change didn’t often go towards something sweet. Ben would struggle to get Klaus to pay for a room or a meal. Chocolate hadn’t been budgeted into their plans.

Ben had been silent since they were brought into the hall. He was looking around, almost searching for something. Klaus understood, he felt like Reginald would show his face at any moment and pull Klaus away. A few people were talking loudly about how their Christmas’ usually were. How the children in their families would wake everybody up in the early hours and tear into their presents with glee. Klaus didn’t think he’d be able to share those things if he had them in his family, he would rather hold the memory close to his chest, not letting anyone else see the joy inside of it. Normal people had plenty of joy to share though, they didn’t grasp onto their memories in fear of losing them. Klaus envied them for it.

He wondered if his siblings had found Christmas after they left. Did Vanya live like a normal person? Did she decorate a tree and share presents with her friends? Did Allison go to Christmas parties with other actors and actresses? Did Diego ever talk to anyone enough to make a friend to give a gift to? Was Luther still stuck at home? Was he as alone as Klaus felt? Did Five get stuck in a different time period? Was he with people that embraced him? Did he feel loved? He hoped they were all happy.

“ _Time to go_ ,” Ben prompted, and Klaus hadn’t realised how quiet the room had gotten. He was the last one there besides the staff. They were cleaning up, collecting the plates and talking among themselves. “ _They_ _’re cleaning up because it’s Christmas_ ,” Ben answered. Klaus hummed, that explained it. The facility was keen on routine, and cleaning up after yourself was a big one, although they only really moved their plates and cutlery to a different area of the room. Sometimes clean-up duty would be assigned, but only if they felt it was needed. It was always those towards the end of treatment. Shouldn’t trust a struggling addict with knives - even if they were mostly plastic.

There was a present sat on his bed - if it could be called a bed. It was wrapped in sparkly red paper. No bow, no strings attached. Yet it still looked like something out of a picture. His name was written over the red in thick black letters. His name. _KLAUS_.

“What do I do?” Klaus asked his brother. He should leave the room, turn away and pretend it wasn’t on his bed. He should pretend he didn’t see his name. He didn’t deserve it, he certainly hadn’t been good.

“ _Open it_?” Ben suggested, sounding as perplexed as Klaus felt. They hadn’t had presents before. Grace had given them the odd thing here and there, but nothing had been wrapped, or as special as this.

“I’ve not been good,” Klaus said, hating how desperate the words sounded. He didn’t know if he wanted Ben to tell him it didn’t matter, or if he wanted to be told to leave it and never think of it again. He would always wonder though, so Klaus did step forward. His hands didn’t shake more than normal - detoxing from the drugs had brought the shake back, Ben had suggested it was the cold that followed him and made his hands shake to the extent they did.

He picked up the present. It was heavy, at least enough that he noticed. Turning the present around, Klaus didn’t want to open it. It looked too _real_ to open. Hearing Ben’s sigh, Klaus slipped his finger beneath one of the folds, tearing the paper as he pried it open. He took his time, savouring the feeling. He doubted he would get another present.

A book. Klaus hadn’t read anything since leaving the academy, he hadn’t needed to. There were very few books available. Even when seeking the warmth in a library, Klaus hadn’t _read_ , he had flipped through pages for Ben, sometimes listening as Ben read the words. It had been enough, Klaus hadn’t cared to lose himself into fantasy worlds like his brother. He vowed to read this book.

_Knitting for Dummies._

Ben snorted as he looked over Klaus’ shoulder. He had been there for the awkward individual sessions that had been forced on him. Ben had watched silently as Klaus and whoever was assigned to him discussed ways to keep himself busy whilst avoiding drugs. Knitting had been a popular choice suggested almost every session. Klaus had eventually agreed to try it, but the actions weren’t as smooth or easy as he tried to copy them. He had barely completed a single row before he had left, frustrated and craving weed more than he had been originally. Something to help ease the shaking in his hands.

Maybe the book would help. Klaus was certainly dumb, so maybe it was fitting. Someone had cared enough to give it to him. Klaus wasn’t sure who it was, only that it definitely wasn’t _Santa_. Someone had seen him struggle, and they had thought he’d get use from the book. There was a pressure not to let them down, whoever it was.

“ _Does this mean we have more knitting classes coming_?” Ben asked.

Klaus just groaned. He fell onto the uncomfortable cot, holding the book to his chest. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he would give it a try. Ben wasn’t entirely silent as Klaus read through the first chapter of the book, but he hadn’t done more than chuckle to himself. Klaus had been half-way through the second chapter when Ben moved to the bed and offered to read the words out loud for him.

“ _You learn better listening than you did reading_ ,” was his excuse. Klaus relented, shifting aside so Ben could see the pages easier. He didn’t thank his brother, the words feeling heavy in his throat. He wanted to pretend it meant nothing, that it was for Ben’s benefit, but that wasn’t true. Klaus always enjoyed Ben reading to him like this. It was soothing. Almost as soothing as Ben’s warmth had been.

Perhaps, Klaus thought as the night drew on and Ben’s voice continued to read as Klaus focused on the pictures. Perhaps Christmas wasn’t so bad, it may just bring forward a little more warmth in someone so dreadfully cold.


End file.
